Steven: my son, partner, mentor, and friend.
Steven: my son, partner, mentor, and friend.
Stan Waisbrod
DAD! DAD! WAKE UP! STEVEN'S ENGAGED! THEY'LL BE HERE IN 20
MINUTES!
It was 10pm on Friday 16 June 1995. Jodi, our daughter was shaking my
shoulder. (Two years previously my sleep was also pleasantly disturbed at 3am
by her and her husband-to-be, Ivan, to tell us that they were engaged to be
married, and they were seeking our blessing to the union.... at 3am!) What a
pleasure!
Steven (26) and Della had been "going steady" for six years - She had recently
qualified as an attorney-at-law; He had just received a substantial raise at the
stock-broking firm at which he was employed. My wife Kathy and I had for
months playfully hinted to Steven that it was possibly time to "settle down" and
produce some grandchildren.
Being a long (holiday) week-end, Steven and Della were on a short vacation at
Mount Grace, a resort not far away. Steven had called to say that he and Della
had finally committed to each other and they were to be married. They duly
arrived and after much kissing, congratulations, and embracing they told us how
they had visited Della's parents (for their blessing) and then we discussed the
forthcoming wedding. They asked Jodi to be part of the wedding retinue. The
wedding was planned for early in 1996. They left at 11.30pm to return to
Mount Grace.
At 2am a loud knocking on the front door woke us and a chaplain from the
hospital service sympathetically informed us that Steven had been killed in a
motor accident. A vehicle driven in the wrong direction (on a freeway!) had
collided head-on with Steven's vehicle. The other driver had also been killed,
but thank G-d Della had survived with minor injuries. The accident had
occurred 5 minutes after they had left our house that evening.
The shock was both devastating and numbing. Kathy began hyperventilating and
kept on repeating "Not my Steven ... NOT MY STEVY!". I fell to the floor
thinking "G-d how could You do THIS?" I was angry with Him. My
father(80) suffers from Parkinson's, is incontinent; my mother(74) had recently
attempted suicide. Why not take one of THEM?
We had four children .. now three - Mark(25), Jodi(24) and Glen(22), and
Steven(26). In the Jewish faith a first-born son belongs to G-d and there is a
short ceremony, soon after birth, where he is redeemed from G-d by his father.
I remember it, and his barmitvah, as if it were yesterday. Such joy and pride!
He was head-prefect at both primary school and high school; always 1st in
class; he loved school so much. I remember him saying, in his farewell speech
to his high school, ...if you ever find a lost soul wandering around the
corridors of this school, it will be me ... looking for the good times and good
people that I have enjoyed so much...
He was more then a son to me.
He was my business partner - in two companies that we operated. He
controlled the computers at the businesses. (After much searching for a
password into the system, I eventually discovered it to be "DELLA") I would
not make ANY business decision without consulting him; and I would usually
take his advice!
He was my religious mentor. He had been shammas (one who assists the
congregation with religious matters during services) at our synagogue since
1982. We often had religious discussions as one would have with a rabbi - him
teaching me!
He was my friend. When the children were much younger I taught the boys
fishing on family holidays at the coast. For the last few years I had been trying
to arrange a fishing trip with all of them. We finally managed to get it
organised for May 1995. Which father can go fishing with three adult sons and
enjoy the pleasure of their company as if we were all very close friends?
He was patriarch to our family. Kathy's loving mother died 22 years ago. Her
father(82) and my parents have, as a result of difficult circumstances in their
lives, never been emotionally close to their children or grandchildren. Because
of this vacuum, Steven was in many ways becoming guide and mentor to his
parents and siblings.
He was my SON. He had his mother's kindness, good manners, loyalty,
compassion, and her caring and giving nature; his father's thirst for knowledge
and understanding, attention to detail, logical mind, diy hands and sense of
humour. He could communicate with anyone - no matter what their rank or
station. He had time and energy for anyone who approached him; from giving
math lessons to his mother's best friend's 11-year-old son to helping his father
with a computer problem.
He passing has left enormous holes in the fabric of our lives.
Since his passing I have learned that according to the Talmud - 40 days before a
child is born - it is written as to how long he will live; the physical and mental
attributes and capabilities that he will have - all this is decided 40 days before a
person is born. What is not written is whether that person will be good or evil;
kind or unkind; honest or dishonest; hard-working or lazy; law-abiding or law-
breaking; etc. G-d gives US the power to make these choices. The person
himself decides HOW to live his life.
Steven loved Life, Della, his family and friends; he gave of himself above and
beyond what would normally be expected of one so young; and was mature for
his years. We have gathered this from the hundreds of letters received since his
passing. He touched so many lives.
It is four months since his death. My anger with G-d was at first replaced with
questions - all starting with "Why...". For me these questions can now only be
answered by Faith.
Faith in G-d and his wisdom.
Faith that his soul will find eternal peace and rest in the comfort of G-d's arms,
in the shadow of His wings.
Faith that his soul will be with the souls of family who went before him, all
together, and knowing each other.
Faith that He will give us strength; and comfort us in our sorrow; and in time
wipe the tears from our faces.
Faith that He has for us many things to do here on earth; and that we will carry
out these tasks with Love for Him.
Faith that when our time comes we will once again be with our beloved son,
Steven.
I weep often -
for the happiness and sadness we shared
for the pain in his mother, siblings and Della
for the grandchildren not to be
for the hopes and dreams we had for him
for the future without him.
Stan Waisbrod
If you wish to write Stan you can find him at: waisbrod@icon.co.za
mail welcome
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